by Bryn Donovan
He shook his head, dumbfounded. “This should be impossible.”
As she looked around them again, new understanding filled her. The carvings of frightening men, of monsters. How many cursed spirits, evil witches, and demons had he faced in his lifetime already? Of course, they’d left their traces. The hymnal pages on the floor, dotted with blood—a sense of guilt, threatening to overwhelm. His every mistake, failure, and fault registered in his mind as mortal sin. Something in her heart cracked at the realization. The huge statues, nine of them, almost glowing in the candlelight—these were all love. For friends, fellow soldiers, family.
For me. She saw now, with awe, that she was the woman in the statue of the lovers. The stained-glass windows glowed far above, many stories over their heads. Vignettes of bravery, kindness, and all of his ideals…so bright, so far to reach.
“What is it?” he asked in a low voice, and she realized a tear traced down her cheek. His voice held fear he couldn’t disguise, as vulnerable as he was here, though God knew he’d never been a coward about expressing his feelings. It was one of the countless things she admired about him.
“It’s beautiful here,” she blurted out. If she hadn’t been so emotional, she might’ve laughed at the look of disbelief on his face. “Look at the statues. No, look up at the windows.”
He obeyed, and his expression softened. “They weren’t lit up before. When Val Read me. They haven’t been in a long while.” He would’ve remembered Val being in his head, the way Cassie remembered him being in hers. Val had only erased the memory of her Reading in order to make Cassie feel more comfortable, because they’d been strangers at the time. “It’s good you’re here. You have a right to know about the…the ruined parts.”
Jesus. Did he think she was going to run away from him because his mindscape wasn’t lollipops and rainbows? Honestly, that would have been terrifying. She had her own damage. He’d seen it: the forest in the distant mountains of her desert, burned black by wildfire. How would he understand her if he had no problems of his own? This place, so troubled and heroic, seemed infinitely precious to her.
“You asked why I let you do…the things you do to me.” She smiled. “It’s because I want you to know I accept all of you, even the darker parts.”
He stared at her like a man visited by an angel. “I don’t deserve you,” he whispered.
“Don’t ever say that again.” She hadn’t told him she loved him, even though she did, and the wrongness of that pained her. Having messed up her first, best chance, she’d worried about the timing, but she couldn’t stand it anymore. She stepped closer to him. “Jonathan, I love you. I love you so much.” His whole heart was in his eyes. They’d both been so emotionally raw even before she’d entered his soulscape. She took his hand, enveloping it in both of hers. “I should have said it before—”
“No, I said it too soon. I never feel like I have much time.” The statement sent a chill branching up her spine. Why would he think that? “You know I meant it, though.”
“Don’t you worry about my animals hurting you?”
“You’re controlling it.” The corner of his mouth turned up. “Anyway, you’re worth the risk.” He leaned close and kissed her, raising his free hand to caress the side of her face, his thumb grazing along her cheekbone and temple. But in the middle of the kiss, he flickered. For an instant, he wasn’t quite there, physically, and then he was solid again. “This might be drawing a lot of energy,” he said. “Having you in my head. I don’t even know. I should break the connection.”
“Do you know how?” A horrible thought flitted through her head, like a crow swooping from one of the high rafters to the other. He wouldn’t be able to get her out, she wouldn’t know how to extract herself, and it would drain the life out of him. She’d just seen what too much magic had done to his mother.
“I think so.” He closed his eyes. She did the same, with a child’s logic—if she couldn’t see this world, maybe she’d no longer be in the middle of it.
The quality of the air changed. Jerking, she opened her eyes and found herself on the bed again. Jonathan still clasped her against him, perhaps even more tightly.
She breathed, “How the hell did that happen?”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
“Johnny,” Val said when he showed up with Cassie the next day for their afternoon session. Cassie still wasn’t used to Val calling him that, not that she minded. “What are you doing here?”
“We need to talk to you about something.”
Her pretty brown eyes flicked to Cassie and back to Jonathan. “I’ll make you some tea. I already have the water hot.” As they sat down, she pulled things down from the shelves. “Kava and St. John’s Wort,” she said. “And lemon balm and lavender. You seem like you’ve had…an emotional time lately.”
Cassie wasn’t surprised that Val picked up on some aftershocks. After Jonathan had accidentally taken her into his psyche the night before, he’d been lightheaded—a psychic drain, he’d said. The strangeness of the experience and the passion of their whole encounter had taken a lot out of Cassie, as well. She felt elated, but tender and raw, almost as though she needed to grow a whole new skin.
“It’s nothing bad,” Jonathan assured Val.
When she brought the tea over, she said, “It has an unusual flavor, but it’ll do you good.”
It smelled terrible. Remembering what Jonathan had told her before—if a Mage makes you a cup of tea, drink it—Cassie took a sip anyway. It tasted worse, honestly like semen, which was actually an okay taste to her in the middle of things, but out of context, it was disgusting. Val knew what she was doing, so Cassie made herself take a second sip.
Jonathan said, “Cassie was in my psyche.”
Val blinked. “That’s not possible. She doesn’t have the gift. I can have Delphine or another Mage check, but I’m sure.”
“No, I think you’re right. It didn’t feel like any other time anyone entered my mind. And she didn’t try to get in.”
She cast a skeptical glance in Cassie’s direction.
Cassie said, “It’s true.”
Val’s expression softened. “People used to be able to do this. Subsummation, they called it—being able to bring someone else into your own psyche, instead of the other way around. How did it happen?”
“I don’t know. I was trying to enter her psyche.” Jonathan took a drink of the tea and looked like he was about to gag. He set it back down.
“Has this ever happened to you before?”
“No!” Jonathan spread his hands. “I’ve Read, what, maybe two hundred people?”
“Cassie, I assume you were willing this time.”
Cassie nodded and then thought of what they’d been doing before the soul-linking. Willing hardly covered it.
Val asked Jonathan, “Was there anything that made this time different?”
Well, there was the fact that his dick had just been in me. Cassie felt genuinely curious about how Jonathan was going to explain this.
He massaged his shoulder the way he sometimes did when something made him uncomfortable. “Of course, I hurt her before, the first time. So I wanted to be careful. I lowered the shields in my own mind.”
“The way you would do if I were Reading you?”
He nodded. “Except more, I mean—I left it completely open.”
Val’s pink-lipsticked mouth parted in disbelief. “But how could you drop your defenses while going into another mind? It would be like breathing in and out at the same time! Did someone teach you how to do this?”
He shook his head again. “I was just trying not to hurt her.”
“Most people can’t drop their defenses the way you do, anyway. Some people can lower them, but you’re the only one who can leave yourself completely open.”
His brow creased. “You never told me that.”
“I didn’t think it mattered.” Her face lit with wonder. “You have one of the Lost Gifts.”
Jonathan looked more
wary than pleased. “Why me? I hardly even inherited any of my mother’s gifts. Just shielding and the most basic Reading skill.”
“Everyone’s unique. Let me Read you to see what happened. Experiencing it like you did will give me a better idea of how you did it.”
Oh, this could be bad. She might see Cassie handcuffed on the bed. Jonathan cleared his throat. “We can’t do that.” Thank God.
Val looked perplexed. “Why?”
“When I tried to go into her psyche, we were—we’d just been together.”
“Then I won’t pry.” She folded her hands, not looking particularly embarrassed. She’d already said she picked up on Jonathan’s lust for Cassie as more or less a constant. God, she probably felt Cassie’s, as well. Maybe she wouldn’t be shocked by a little respectful domination, but Cassie still preferred to keep it to herself. “Do you think your being intimate with her somehow helped you do this?”
“I…maybe.” His eyes darted to Cassie. “I mean we were very close.”
Cassie filled the next uncomfortable silence by taking another drink of the tea. It was cooling, which made it all the more gross.
“You have to try it again,” she told Jonathan. “See if you can bring someone else in your psyche all the time.”
“Debriefing’s your job,” he protested. “And I’ve known you most of my life.”
“But we have to try this out. Pick someone who isn’t psychic, someone you trust.”
Within the half hour, Gabi was slouching in a seat in Val’s office. “You know I don’t like this stuff.”
“It won’t take that long,” Val said. “Cassie, is there anything that you did? To get into Jonathan’s mind?”
Cassie shook her head. “I tried to relax. That was it.”
“All right.” Val nodded at Jonathan. “Let’s give this a try.”
He reached over and took Gabi’s hand. She sighed but closed her eyes, leaning her head back into the stuffed chair. For several seconds, neither of them moved. Cassie felt like she was breathing too loudly and tried to be quieter.
Gabi jerked in her seat, and Cassie jumped, too. Both she and Val leaned closer. Was Gabi in Jonathan’s psyche? He straightened, releasing Gabi’s hand and opening his eyes. She snapped out of it, too, saying, “Ugh. Thanks a lot.”
He let out an exasperated sigh. “I went into her psyche. Sorry. I tried to do it the same way.”
“It probably takes practice,” Cassie said.
Gabi got up. “Well, no more practice on me.”
“Thanks for letting me try,” Jonathan said. “Sorry.”
She gave him an indulgent eye roll as she left. “Good luck, I guess.”
Jonathan said, “I always thought it was the most useless of the Lost Gifts. I mean, teleportation, healing, prophecy, telepathy—I’d cut off my right arm for any of those.”
Val leveled him with a look. “Please stop saying how you want to sacrifice yourself for the common good. The Goddess may take you at your word.”
“I don’t think it’s useless,” Cassie prodded him. “Stupid me. I thought it was amazing.”
He softened at once. “It was. I meant in the bigger scheme of things.” He gave a rueful laugh. “And I’m mad it didn’t work the second time.”
“You’ll get the hang of it,” Cassie said.
As Jonathan left the office with Cassie, he puzzled over what Val had said. Why would he have a Lost Gift, even one he considered negligible? If only he could’ve talked to his mother about it. She would’ve loved it, he was sure.
Cassie interrupted his thoughts by saying, “That tea tasted like jizz.”
“It tastes that bad?” He must have had a horrified look on his face, because she laughed at him. They agreed to go to the cantina for coffee to wash the taste out of their mouths. On the way there, the alarm vibrated on Jonathan’s phone. He stopped short and whipped it out.
“What’s going on?” she asked.
Jonathan frowned at the bright bars and numbers on the screen. “It’s Lucia’s heart rate. And her breathing.”
“You’re tracking that?”
“Yeah, I’m her contact.” He noted her location as he called her. “She’s still at Lorenzo’s. It’s probably nothing.” Physical activity…though he didn’t know what that would be. Lucia had checked in with him at the predetermined time yesterday. She and the elderly scholar wouldn’t be doing anything but talking and research. Dread rose in him. Lucia wasn’t the type to go for a jog.
As the phone rang, Cassie asked, “Isn’t it awkward to check in sometimes? I mean, someone could be having sex or something.”
“Yeah, well,” he muttered. “She’s not going to be having sex with anyone who isn’t Samir.” Anybody who knew the two of them knew that. As he waited for her to pick up, he pressed a button to bring up her complete vitals. He stiffened. “That’s a huge adrenaline dump.” What the hell was going on? Cassie leaned closer to see the screen. He said, “I’m punching through.”
“What?”
He pulled up a keypad and punched in a code. “This makes her phone pick up, turns the camera on, and puts me on a loudspeaker.” She probably remembered Nic doing this after the bear attack.
The screen filled with beige, and a woman’s scream tore through his consciousness. Cassie jumped. Jonathan shouted, “Lucia, what’s happening?”
A man’s voice, shouting a question in a foreign language. Nothing on the screen but pockmarked taupe. A ceiling. Lucia’s voice, distant but a shout. “Tribunal!”
“No no no—” Jonathan’s brain seized up with panic. “I’m sending help—”
“Too far!” she countered. Oh, God. Lucia. The face of an ugly, middle-aged man filled the screen, his features both soft and cruel. Cassie let out a little shriek. He stared at both Jonathan and Cassie. Jonathan returned his gaze, memorizing the features of a man he intended to hunt down and kill. A second man said something in the background—he strained to catch it. Then Lucia’s voice, yelling but only just audible. “Tell Samir I love him! With all my heart!”
Jonathan bent over and leaned his shoulder against the wall, cradling the phone in both hands. He knew what that declaration meant. He had to be strong for this. The man holding Lucia’s phone launched into foreign curses and tried to press buttons, his thumbs obliterating much of the screen. No matter. Lucia could hear him.
“I’ll tell Samir. Lucia, listen. You’ve done so well.” He spoke in a loud, steady voice, the way he’d been trained. “You’re brilliant. You’re loved, by all of us. You leave this world with no debts or cause for regret.” Lucia’s voice, barely audible. She was saying her drop code. Jonathan continued, “We will take revenge—”
A cracking sound, and the screen went black. The man must have destroyed her phone. Jonathan touched a few buttons with shaking fingers while Cassie looked over his shoulder. Lucia’s vitals again: heart rate zero, breathing nonexistent. The bar that read brain activity flared wildly. Then that bar went to zero, and the screen went black.
Jonathan leaned his forehead against the wall, his eyes shut tight. My fault, my fault. It had happened so fast. He should’ve checked in with her again this morning. But she would’ve called him right away if she were in trouble, or she would’ve called Samir first. They must’ve taken Lucia’s phone immediately. The Tribunal? A nightmare of history, rising again to life.
Cassie had lowered herself to the floor next to him, sitting on her heels. A couple of people walking by them stopped in their tracks, about to ask if they needed help. Cassie waved them off, angrily, even though they acted out of concern.
“I would have sent Knights from Rome,” Jonathan said. He shook his head, trying to clear it. Do your job. “I’ll send them now.” He typed in the message to the comandante in Rome and sent it. “I should have told her to hold on. But it might have taken them too long…she knew that.”
“She was being tortured?” Cassie’s voice cracked. “Or about to be? By who?”
“By the be
st. Christ help me.” Scholars didn’t get interrogation training. Lucia would’ve broken and given information to the enemy. She’d done the right thing. Cassie choked on a sudden sob. Jonathan’s hand rested for a moment on her shoulder, an automatic, numb gesture meant to comfort. He made another call.
Davinder Singh, a middle-aged man who wore a black turban and thick eyeglasses, appeared on the screen. “Salaam, Jonathan. What do you need?”
“Obitus. Samir Hassan. Capitán Renaud. Andre Turner, Gabriela Bravo. And, uh—a Scholar who knows a lot about the Tribunal.” The man’s eyebrows rose. “And Nic. Dominic Joe. That’s all.”
The man nodded, his features solemn. “Obedezco.” He flickered out.
Cassie sniffled. “What’s happening? Emergency meeting?”
“Yeah.”
“Am I invited?”
He nodded. “This is about you.” Her eyes widened in alarm. “They hate us, but they wouldn’t murder a Scholar for no reason. They know something about the codex. Besides, you might have heard something I didn’t.”
“I don’t think so. It happened so fast.”
“They’ll go over the video soon,” he said dully.
“You recorded the conversation? Good. They can get the motherfuckers.”
Even in his dazed state, he appreciated her spirit. “Everything is recorded.”
She sat up straighter. “The guy we saw. He’s a dead man. Something’s coming for him.”
“What?”
“I felt the power come over me,” she said. “I tasted the blood.”
“An animal attack?” He wished. “I don’t think so, Cassie. He’s on the other side of the ocean.” Spells didn’t usually fly so far.
“Right.” She shook her head. “I’m not thinking clearly.”
“Don’t worry,” he assured her, grim. “We’re going to end them.”
“Who are they? Tribunal?”
He drew in a deep breath. “We haven’t heard about them in decades. We thought we’d killed them all. That they had no more descendants, no more followers.” His phone vibrated, and he answered it. The man he’d talked to before appeared on the screen. “Suyuuf Room, ten minutes.”
